Of Paddles and Petulance
by Dee678
Summary: Events from 3x01. Sam knows stomping around like a three year old who has lost his favourite toy is being childish but he can't help it. He needs to let Andy know what she has done to him. This explores why Sam is acting like an idiot.


**Author's note: This fic is based on events of 3x01, which I haven't actually seen. I have only seen the videos created by Cloph23 (thank you, thank you, thank you for feeding my addiction) of Andy/Sam scenes so this is probably full of mistakes because I don't know what happened in the rest of the episode. Please forgive me!**

**I just felt compelled to write this because the bits I have seen made me want to smack Sam with the bloody paddle. He was being so childish that I felt I needed to come up with some justification for why he was stomping around like a brat and not immediately sweeping Andy off her feet and into his bed. Here it is, I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue. If I did the whole thing would be about Sam and Andy.**

It is the damn paddle that does it. The way she hands it to him to carry like it is a priceless trophy, the greatest souvenir of the best vacation she's ever had. It just rubs it in that she's been off swanning around North Bay for the last three months enjoying herself while he's been here, pining… no _yearning_ for her. What's the bet she hasn't pined for him? No, she's been too busy paddling. And jumping out of planes. Getting her kicks any way but with him.

He would like to snap the freakin' paddle in half, he is so pissed off. Instead he stalks off through the airport, laden down with her baggage. He does not turn to look at her, does not take off his sunglasses. If he looks straight in her eyes and lets her look into his he might weaken and let the anger slide away. But he can't do that, not yet. He is holding on to it for all it's worth.

He has been angry since she left all those weeks ago and his mood just escalated as he headed to the airport to meet her. He's been imagining this day for three months now, counting down to it like a kid waiting for Christmas, and he hardly slept last night. But instead of being happy to see her again after all this time he's fuming because she's been off having such a good time. The more he thinks about what she's been doing in Temagami, the more he feels the hot fury coursing through his veins like lava down a volcano. Obviously she really didn't care about them being forced apart. Not like he did.

And then when he saw her coming down the escalator, looking all tanned and relaxed and refreshed, with her perky new haircut, all these ideas he'd once had about scooping her up in his arms and kissing the face off of her went straight out the window and it's as much as he could manage to grunt, "Any baggage?"

He knows she's surprised, bewildered and hey, probably even hurt by his behaviour. Well, that's what he wants. He needs her to feel hurt because that's what she's inflicted upon him.

The irony of the situation he finds himself in now is not lost on him. He has spent two years keeping his feelings under wraps, trying not to let anyone – Andy especially – know how she's wrenched his heart from his chest (although he realises now he may not have been as successful at keeping his emotions hidden as he thought, judging by the way every man and his dog at 15 seems to know he had a thing about his former rookie, even before they got together while he was undercover).

After those two times with her at JD's apartment – those two amazing, mind-blowing incredible encounters – it was as if the floodgates opened and all the pent-up desire and emotion and – OK, let's admit it here – love came pouring out and now he's not just wearing his heart on his sleeve, he has it plastered all over his uniform for the whole world to see. And now that he's finally able to show her what he's feeling, at this moment in time the emotion he needs her to see most of all is his rage. He has to make her understand how upset he is.

He knows stomping around like a three year old who has lost his favourite toy is being childish and petulant and stupid but he can't help it. He has opened himself up to her, allowed her into the very deepest corners of him, and she has repaid him by walking away. She gives him that line about phoning and emailing to tell him why she was going away, and not knowing how to contact him during the suspension but he's not listening. She didn't have to go away. There would have been ways around it. But she didn't stop to think about that, she just took off.

Well, he's not going to let her get away with it. Not without letting her know what this has done to him.

* * *

He glances across at her, sitting in the front seat of the squad car next to him, and for a brief moment the anger is gone and he is a calm and contented man. This is how it should be, him behind the wheel and McNally beside him, rabbiting on. These have been some of the best moments of his life, the two of them like this, only he didn't always appreciate it at the time.

She is giving him her speech now, the one she is going to make to the tribunal, and he sits there listening to her going on about keeping her emotions in check and his heart sinks into his gut. She's not prepared to stand up for them, for him. He doesn't matter enough. The job matters more.

She says it herself: "And God knows, I love my job." Her job. Not, "I love Sam."

Right. Well, now he knows what her priorities are. Not him.

"That's a pretty good speech," he tells her, and wonders if she's picked up the derision in his voice. Hey, it is a good speech and no doubt it will get her her job back. But it has not done anything to convince him they have a future together.

As he responds to a call about a driver who won't stop, he realises that what really gets him about all of this is that she was the one who initiated everything. He thinks back to that night at the Alpine Inn, and how she was the was the one who came back, as Candace, and looked JD in the eye and gave him that hopeful little smile and said, "If you're not doing anything for the next couple of hours…"

She took a huge risk doing that and she told him later that she just couldn't help herself. And God, was he glad for her lack of self-control that night, and her determination to get him into bed.

Hell, she was the one who said no when he wanted to do the sensible thing and send her off in a cab to the barn. She was the one who said she didn't want to go back.

And let's not forget, she was the one – after everything he went through with that bastard Brennan – who said yes when he asked her if she wanted to try being normal together. It was not a half-hearted yes. It was an emphatic one.

But here she is now going on about how important her job is and not mentioning a word about how much he might possibly mean to her.

Can't she tell that she's driving a dagger into his heart here?

"So what, what did you say in your speech?" she asks.

He tunes back in to their conversation and can't resist the opportunity to have a dig at her. "Oh, it was great, I blamed it all on you," he lies. He hopes that nicks her.

It does by the way she says, "Sam…"

"I told them my personal life was none of their business and it had not gotten in the way of me doing my job, the same thing I told you three months ago."

She starts to speak but he is not listening. He has to get this out. "Three months ago I asked you if you wanted to try being normal together and you said yes…"

And then, oh Christ, a van and a car have collided in the road ahead and he can't stop in time…

* * *

He knows he is losing it. She is trying to be helpful but he has yelled at her for trying to do her job.

"What part of stand down do you not understand?" he snaps. As soon as the words are out of his mouth he wants to snatch them back; he can see how they've infuriated her. She is just trying to help. All she wants is to be a good cop.

He tries to find justification for his rant. She is not officially working, she has yet to be reinstated. If anything were to go wrong he'd be the one in trouble. If anything were to go wrong he could never live with himself.

But basically, he just needed to yell, to vent some of the fury and disappointment that is choking him.

He knows he is being unreasonable, pathetic even. He feels like one large walking churning mass of anger and rage and longing and desire, and he knows he needs to get a grip. Wanting to shout at her and kiss her all at the same time is driving him crazy.

* * *

They are just a few feet apart in the incident room at the barn but she might as well be back in North Bay. She won't look at him and he can't say he blames her. He has been on her case since the accident, sniping at her non-stop. In fact what he really wants to tell her is how proud he is of her. She pulled a girl nobody else saw out of the back of a burning van packed with propane. She uncovered the fact that the girl has been missing for seven years.

This is one of the reasons he loves her – she's a damn fine cop with great instincts and she listens to them. He likes to think as her training officer and partner he has played a part in making her the great cop she has become but he knows that really, these talents are inherent in her, he has just helped to foster them.

He glances over at her and he can tell she's fuming. She's looking straight ahead and her jaw is set. He can almost see the anger coming off her like steam off a hot pavement when it rains.

Well hey, that's exactly how he feels. _Welcome to my world, Andy. _

* * *

They reinstated her. He knew they would. She'll have promised not to let anything that might have happened with him get in the way of her job. She's probably even promised she'll have nothing to do with him again. That'll be it, the end of them before they even really began.

He wants to leave without her seeing him but she spots him in the hall and comes after him. He tries to be gracious. He thanks her for her help on the case today and he congratulates her for getting her job back. He is trying to be civil but he can't keep the 'I'm-still-pissed-off' tone out of his voice. It is hard to simply set aside petulance when you've worn it like a suit of armour all day.

The thing is, he does understand what she is trying to say. If you were to look at it from a logical point of view then what she did, getting away from him for three months, makes sense. She removed herself from temptation to try to save her job. She has only been a copper for two years, she doesn't have the same track record, the same status that he has. He has the experience, the respect to be able to tell the tribunal straight that his personal life did not interfere with his job and it had pretty much nothing to do with them. In other words, "Get lost, I can see who I want to see."

And OK, she couldn't say that. He supposes he gets it. But did she have to follow the rules to the letter? They could have found some way to see each other and nobody would have been any the wiser. If it mattered enough to them both they could have done it. Doesn't she get the agony she put him through? All he wanted was her in his arms, his bed, his life. They could have found a way.

"Well, that's it?" she says as they walk towards the door. "You're just leaving?"

"Why, what do you want?" OK, here goes. Time to say his bit. "McNally, you left, OK – after everything that happened between us you cut it off, OK, because some guy with a white shirt told you to…"

"OK," she bites back, "you break all the rules, you do whatever you want but that's not me. I'm only two years in this job, a job I really love."

There she goes again, going on about how much she loves the damn job.

He can't help himself. "All you wanted was to keep being a copper, and all I wanted was you."

Right. He's said it now. He might as well have just slit open his chest and handed her his heart.

That stops her in her tracks, and he walks away.

* * *

He sits at home and stews. He didn't go to the Penny – he knew she'd be there celebrating with her friends. He thinks about all her stuff, sitting in the back of his truck. He had planned on taking it over to her new place tonight, to give him an excuse to see her.

But what the hell is he supposed to say now? He has a feeling things have gone way beyond the point of no return. His anger has angered her so much they're just going to stay angry at each other. That's a whole lot of anger. Shit, what has he done?

He cooks himself a steak for dinner and throws together a salad. The steak is best quality fillet; it tastes like cardboard to him. He turns on the TV, flicks through a few channels and turns it off again. He is not in the mood.

He checks his phone. No messages, no texts. Why hasn't she got in touch? Doesn't she want her gear? Doesn't she want him?

He loads the dishwasher, puts it on even though it is only half full. Maybe he could just drop her stuff outside her door and leave it for her. That would work. He knows her new address, yes he could do that.

He heads for the door, picks up the keys to his truck. He doesn't actually have to see her. He's just dropping off her gear. That's all.

* * *

He thinks about leaving her stuff in the corridor but what if somebody steals it? So he knocks on the door and the minute she opens it he thrusts that damn paddle at her. He walks in and dumps her stuff, his manner brusque. Then he heads for the door.

But she stops him, her hands against his chest, and she looks so vulnerable, in her pajamas with no makeup and her hair wet and smelling of coconut. Several times she asks him to stay, she tells him how much she missed him every single day and then she implores him to take the chance start over – hell, just start – and suddenly it is more than enough and he finds himself saying "OK".

To be honest, he is relieved. Very, very relieved. If he had left now he would have been furious with himself. He can drop this ridiculous, pathetic charade and try to move on. But he doesn't know what to do next, how to go from stroppy three year old having a meltdown to grown-up guy who just wants to be with the woman he loves. He heads towards her sofa like he's walking through quicksand. His body is on a go-slow, his thoughts foggy. Now what? How does he play it from here?

He drums his fingers against his legs as she sits down next him, her body warm and soft against his. Her skin smells so good he longs to touch it. They sit there, not speaking, for a very long few moments. "So how do we start?" he asks her, trying to make his voice sound light and facetious. She does not reply and he is forced to turn to her and when he does, he comes undone.

The sorrow etched into her face cracks his chest right open. She looks utterly miserable, and he can see she is fighting back the tears. He is the scumbag who has done this to her, he has wounded her like this because of his own selfish needs. He is immediately overwhelmed with regret because he tried to hurt her and he realises how disgusting that it is. He never wants to hurt her, never ever again. He knows he is a complete bastard and he is filled with a desperate need to put things right.

He will say sorry, he will make sure she understands he has only been like this because all he wants is to be with her. He will tell her how he feels, and then he will show her - tenderly, passionately - the way he knows best. So he makes the first move, leaning forward to kiss her. He will make amends, and he will make sure she truly understands how much she means to him.

And he will never, ever, do this to her ever again.


End file.
